Our Lady Of Sorrows
by obliviation
Summary: A long time has passed since Port Royal last heard of Captain Jack Sparrow...years have left their mark but...will the city stand once the Captain returns? Except, this time, Jack has a lot more to deal with! R&R please...
1. Every Story Has Its Beginning

Disclaimer: I do **not** own any of the characters nor the places (just the ones I added to the real story)! This is only a fictional story.  
My first fic...be nice : ) eheh...thanks!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Port Royal was bubbling with excitement. All over the strangely overcrowded streets at that time of the night, there were laughs and chants that suggested something abnormal was about to happen.

The higher part of the colony, with its colossal noble houses and palaces was flooded in intense, blinding lights and soft, melodious music. Everyone could see that thesource of all thatfuss was the Governor's palace with its old white, untainted walls and its humongous gardens where jasmines, roses and daisies floated along with the sweet warm southern breeze. The willows in the Swann's Residence gardens rocked as their branches waved in the pleasant, gentle wind. The moon hanging in the sky embraced the land with its mystified light, recalling days of glory and ancient, impossible loves.

The poorer side of Port Royal, even far away from the epicentre, was throwing its own jolly party in the lower lanes of the city; the human mass grouping outside the modest houses enlarged as the time went by.

All around the island there were cheerful faces and exultant people with their senses affected by the large amount of alcohol they had drunk. Not that it was weird to see drunken men stumble across the dark alleys, but in that night, it seem their number had doubled, or even tripled due to the late-opened taverns. That magnificent day of joy and glee was ending the best way imaginable: a royal ball. A royal ball which everyone knew what was for. Everyone, except a certain group of strangers…

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the northern end of Port Royal, two sentinels guarded the docs. The two men were sitting comfortably in the wooden platform, their boots and socks hungup an old rope from a decadent ship anchored nearby, their feet splashing in the cool water of the calm and flat Caribbean Sea.

"Mullroy?" called one of them, bleakly

"What?" threw the other one. His bored eyes focused on the serene ocean in front of them and his head propped up by his right hand.

"For how long have we been serving the Port Royal Guard?"

"Twenty years." answered Mullroy without moving his eyes.

"Oh! Right! Thought so! Thanks, just needed to remember myself." said the first one following his mate's eye direction.

"Any time, Murtogg!"

A drowsy pause broke only by the distant sound of laughing and the remote jovial melodies. The two friends remained there, frozen, not moving one single muscle.

"So why, in the name of Mary, are we here drowning ourselves in this…dullness, while the others sit and banquet at the Royal Ball?" asked Murtogg in a monochord voice.

"Don't know..." replied Mullroy in the same tedious tone while his little attention was drawn to a small, decrepit boat that was approaching.

"Yeah…" concurred Murtogg, also watching the fragile vessel getting nearer and nearer, cutting the darkness surrounding the docs like a knife. "Me neighed!... I just wish something happened around here! It has been so long since the last time we had some action in Port Royal…"

"Yeah…" repeated Mullroy. "You know…I never thought I would say this…but…I miss Sparrow!"

"Me too, mate! Me too! At least he could shake things up a little bit for us down here, aye!"

"Definitely…It's strange, mate! Now that we're talking about him… you'll find this side-splitting! …but…I almost can see him arriving in that old boat like he didmore than eighteen years ago…"

"That's funny…! Me too. I almost can see him and his crew in that ridiculous nutshell!"

The two guards start laughing willingly, but soon enough their laugh was replaced by a weird sensation of doubt. They looked at each other gravely and then to the boat again.

"Not possible!" murmured Mullroy in disbelieve.

"After all this time, it's just…"

"**_Impossible_**!"

"Right!" agreed Murtogg, nodding. But the boat was way too close to have reservations anymore. "Wrong! Wrong, Mullroy! It _is_! It is Sparrow! Look!"

The both of them got up promptly and forced their eyes to focus the tiny boat that the dark environment insisted on hiding. It was drifting away from the doc.

"Sparrow!" shouted Mullroy to the darkened sea.

"Sparrow!" tried Murtogg. The boat had almost disappeared in the night again.

"Sparrow!" called the two guards, together. They waited, but nothing came for an answer. Nothing…just the gentle ruffle of the ocean and the emptiness of the dim sight.

"Naaa…!" complained Mullroy, throwing himself heavily on the wooden deck (his backside landing with a thud) and submerging his feet in the water again. "It was only our imagination, Murtogg! The desperate will of adventure that two brave soldiers such as ourselves undoubtedly have! No Sparrow!"

"Right you are, Mullroy! We just have to face our curse and forget about Sparrow. God! What a stupid way to start a shift!" whined Murtogg, disappointed.

"Told 'ya!"

Author's little note...: so...what do you think? please tell me...


	2. Arriving Home

By the other side of Port Royal, an old pair of black boots jumped off a tiny boat and landed with a thud on the pebbly shore.

"Damn my smarmy luck!" yelled a numbed, low voice belonging to the boots' owner. "Twice I've been to this God stained mount of sand and rocks! And TWICE I've arrived here lookin' like a fish!" He looked madly at the minuscule boat that the salty ocean's water had almost completely flooded. "Literally!"

"It's no'ye blemish, Jack!" observed Gibbs while helping the rest of the small crew getting out of the bizarre ship.

"I know it's not me blemish! Of course it's not me blemish! Who said it was?" He exasperated. Gibbs and Anamaria shook their heads in disapproval.

"What will we do, now, Captain?" she asked, feeling almost afraid to hear the answer.

"We'll do what we do best, luv! Pillage, plunder, riffle and loot! Jus'like the ol' good song says!" he answered, heading up to the lightened, cheerful village. His dark, sparkling eyes strolling around the dim shore.

"Who figured?" censured a short, young girl from the crew who followed Jack closely. "Finally! Land!" she sighted after speeding towards the town.

"No' just any land, Tammie! I would recognise this island even a thousand miles away!" said Jack with a cocky smile playing upon his lips. The young woman looked up at him reprehensively.

"So why didn'ya!" she spat back at him, irritably. Then strode again, heading for the lighted streets ahead. Jack stared choked at her, his pride and honour damaged by her words.

"And what do ye mean by that, lil' missy!" he yelled, jogging a bit to try to catch up with her.

"I mean…!" she shouted, stopping abruptly and turning to him. "I mean that we wouldn't 'ave seen ourselves lost in the middle of the CaribbeanSea if ye really knew what ye're doing! After all, ye're our Captain! And where did that lead us? To a stupid, feeble…SHOE! That ye had the nerve to very haughtily call boat!"

"Oh, c'mon, Tammie! That was just a…hiccup…in our journey! Better winds are comin', and I'll be here to restrain them! I'm Captain Jack Sparrow! Just don't forget about THAT!"

"I won't! Ye certainly make sure I remember that fact! And…DON'T…call…me…TAMMIE!"

"Calm yerself down, Miss Rackham." Advised Anamaria, tired of their discussions. "Ye'll need all the cool ye can get when our Captain, there, start rallyin' the pubs!" she put her arm around the young girl's shoulders and accompanied her on their route up the city.

"I'm startin' to think I 'ave a problem with women…" mumbled Jack to himself as the members of the crew passed beside him one by one.

"Well…it sure looks cheerier than last time…" muttered Gibbs when they finally reached the crowded city streets. People were constantly bumping into them with their dangerous oscillating bodies.

"What, in the world, is 'appenin' here?" barked Jack, making way through the human mass, his eyes fixed on a spot above their heads. "Havin' fun without me? No fair!"

"I reckon ye weren't very welcome here…last time, I mean. Did you really expect open arms?" criticized the short girl, being almost smashed against a wall.

"I 'ave me reasons, Dear Tamora…" he stated. "Now, C'mon y'all! We don't wanna miss the party! Do we?"

"Party!" repeated Tamora looking around them. "Which party?"

"That party!" said Jack pointing a long finger at someplace above them. The crew followed the direction with their eyes and widening their stares as they realised the Captain's attention object.


	3. An Awe Inspiring Moment

"Ye must be jokin', Jack…" started Anamaria, shaking her head.

"Isn' that…?" snarled a tanned and blond young boy.

"Aye! It is, Johnny, me boy! See ye haven't forgotten yer homeland yet!" Jack was teeming with eagerness.

"Isn' that what?" asked Tamora, lively. But no one spoke. Everybody in that small, seven-men crew knew what that building Jack was pointing at represented…everybody but her. "Hellooo…?" called the girl again. She was the only one who hadn't been to Port Royal at least once in a lifetime. "Which one of ye muddy beasts will tell me what the hell is that? Johnny?Gibbs?"

"That would be the Governor's Palace, miss Rackham…" muttered Johnny with his warm, silky voice. Tamora knitted her eyebrows together in suspicion.

"The Governor's Palace?" she repeated. Her big hazel eyes held by the power the enormous structure in front of them inspired. The crew stood there, gazing at the Palace, their minds emptied by the awe-inspiring moment. But as a good pirate Jack always was (the best, as some called him), he started to feel uncomfortable among that silence:

"Are we off, then?" he jolted.

"Off? And where do ye want us to be off to?" raised Anamaria placing her hands on her hips.

"Isn' that obvious?" reacted Tamora, smiling broadly. "We'll be gracin' that swanky, posh kafuffle with our delightful presence!"

"Oh…" Jack phoney cry made everybody's head turn to him as he embraced a shocked Tamora with his big, clever arms. "They grow up so fast! Ye know, Tammie, just yesterday ye wer' that little tiny baby we found overseas. Now…" he made a pause, looking directly into Tamora's deep, clever eyes. His stare flickering with laughter. "Well…ye're still a little tiny young woman! That's fo' sure!"

"Ye filthy, slimy…greasy…son of a thousand b…!" she yelledstarting to punch him in the stomach.

"Miss Rackham!" shouted Johnny while Tom and Ebony, the concluding members of the crew, grabbed her from behind, making her rise in the air.

"Let go o' me, ye scabrous mutts!" roared Tamora between the holding grip she was in. Jack was looking at her provokingly. He nodded so Ebony and Tom could release her.

"Now, now, Tammie child!" said Jack walking towards her, his long pointing finger placed in the tip of Tamora's nose. She was breathing heavy and had her fists closed tightly in an attempt of self-control. Her eyes were lividly piercing his. Jack continued to march, Tamora walking backwards, never looking away. "Ye'll be needin' that in a while! But right now, toddler, rest still!" and as he said that, Jack pushed Tamora and she fell back in a horse waterier. He smiled when she hit the water with a splash.

"Damn you, Jack!" she cursed, seeing herself all wet. "Ye...SEADOG! TRAMP! I despite the ground ye walk in! Ye brainless, stupid, grovelling bastard!"

"Ye shouldn't 'ave done that." Gibbs lowly reprehended him as Jack turned his back to the yelling Tamora and looked to the monumental house in front of them.

"Oh, she's no longer a baby, Gibbs! Y'all treat her like one, but she's not! She's almost a woman! And a very bubbly one!" Jack complained with an eye roll.

"Ye just luv naggin' that lass, don' ye, Jack?" asked Gibbs, smiling. Jack moved his head slowly to look him in the eyes.

"With every peace of me blackened heart, mate!" he said simply, narrowing his stare.

"Jack!" called Anamaria, jogging towards them. "Ye must be daft! Ye can't go in there! Neither of us can! They'll kill ya! Don't ye remember of their "policy" 'bout pirates?"

"Aha! And don' ye remember me litl'…adventure with Mr. Turner and Miss Swann? Or, as she probably is right now, Mrs. Turner!" Jack demanded. "If me gut isn't tricking me…they most likely are the new and improved Mr and Mrs 'Port Royal Governor'!"

"Even so!" persisted Anamaria. "Damn it, Jack! We can't risk our necks!"

"Believe me; we won't!" he reassured. "Now, go and help Miss Rackham. She's delayin' us!"

"Oho! That one's funny, Jack!" bellowed Tamora while Johnny helped her getting out of the waterier. "Very, very funny!"

"What can I do! I'm an amusing chap!" said Jack.

"Histerical…!" the girl mumbled.

The crew began, once again, to climb the narrow streets of Port Royal. They, now, knew where they were heading to, but that didn't calm them down. That didn't calm them at all! The thought of being hung by the neck in the middle of the big Fort wasn't very comforting and it seemed to them that their future with Jack in charge wasn't going to be much different than that. However they kept going, dark, gloomy ideas running through their minds, but never they stopped following their round the bend Captain.

"See ye've freshened up, Tammie!" teased Jack under his low, indistinct voice when Tamora passed beside him; her long, ragged skirt soaking wet.

"Oooh! Shut up!"


	4. A Dire Bet

"Thiz drress just von't do!" shouted a girlish voice from inside the dressing room.

"Oh…" sighted Mrs Turner looking desperately to the maid who was standing right next to the door hiding the dressing room and holding an enormous pile of different coloured dresses. "And what is wrong with this one, Verona, dear?"

The door Mrs Turner was staring at flung open and a young figure of a woman in a pair of high-heeled shoes burst into the room. She was dressed in what looked like a bright pink pillowcase and had locks of her pitch black hair sticking out the bun perched in the very top of her head.

"Can't you tell?" she yelled with her heavy French accent, almost hurt by the unnecessary question. Actually, Mrs Turner knew exactly what was wrong with that dress…the owner! (And the fact that it looked like a potatoes' sack). However, she shrugged with a smile. "It'z itz length!" the girl explained; her expression superior as she was about to reveal the biggest find of the century. "Madam Suzette zaid ze latest fashion in London is to vear shorrterr drresses so zey only scrrape ze floorr, but 'ide ze feet all ze _lame_!"

"_Same_." Corrected Mrs Turner quickly.

"Vat 'ave I zaid? Zame!" Verona insisted.

"Anyway, dear…" Mrs Turner continued rising from her armchair with a sigh. "About the dress, I believe Anita will be happy to take care of that for you, won't you Anita?"

The maid looked absolutely frantic as words failed her.

"Anita?" called Verona.

"Of course, miss." She said. "Everything you want" but before she disappeared with Verona behind the dressing room's door, she cast her mistress a look of anguish.

Mrs Turner left the two of them in the dressing room and headed for the one in the far end of the opposite wing. She felt bad for leaving Anita alone with the "French goblin", but she hardly could be there herself: hearing Verona's voice was truly giving her a head ache, so she kept on walking.

The noise of her steps was muffled by the music coming from the floor below where dozens of voices whirled in a cloud of sound.

Elizabeth merely glanced at the bight light coming from the great hall before facing the gloomier corridor and the door she was looking for. She raised her hand and knocked.

"Come in." Came the response from inside the room. Elizabeth turned the knob and opened the door gently. A familiar face beamed as it realised it was her.

"Hello stranger." He said, walking towards her and hugging her tightly.

"Ready for battle, soldier?" Elizabeth asked as he loosened his grip. He let out a witty laugh.

"I say, mother, you are the most pessimist person I ever recall meeting!" he joked.

"No, I'm not!" she retorted. "You know I'm not! But this whole Verona subjects is just…too much!" Elizabeth confessed, sitting on her child's bed.

He smirked wickedly.

"If I didn't know you better, mother, I would swear you are jealous of little Miss Bree." He teased as he sat beside his mother.

"Good thing you know me, then!" Mrs Turner laughed. "And you just say those things, Harry, because you never had to listen to her going on and on about the most…idiotic, frivolous things you could ever imagine!" she confessed. Harry sighed, amused.

"She's not that bad, mother, seriously. She makes me laugh!"

"Oh, Harry, everything makes you laugh!" Elizabeth pointed out abruptly. She let out and annoyed breath. "She has nothing to do with you, honey. Why did you insist on accompanying her to YOUR birthday ball?"

Harry smirked again with malice playing in his smile.

"Do you really want to know, My Lady?" he asked naughtily. Elizabeth widened her eyes with curiosity. "It was a bet" he said quickly. "Plus, she is eye-catching!"

"She was a bet?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief. Harry nodded, smirking. "You made me listen to her pecking all day long aver a stupid bet?" she exasperated.

Harry let out another laugh. "She always declines all invitations! I was the first one of my group to get her to accept something! Everybody's just going to pass out!" he said, proudly, as he got up. "I'm a national hero, Mrs Turner!"

"Well…you'll be a dead one if you try to do this kind of thing again, understood young man?" she threatened.

"Trust me mother: after this one, it's all downhill from here." He joked giving a small kiss on his mother's cheek.

"I sure hope so, Harry James Turner. You better learn how to behave fast because you're not getting any younger, my boy." She said standing up and stoking her eldest son's dark, messy hair with the tip of her fingers.

"Mother, today is my birthday! Let me relish the marvellous ball that you and Father planned in my honour and postpone the inner growth, will you, please?"

"Harry, Harry…" Elizabeth sighed again. "You will have to grow up eventually, you know?"

"Yes. Eventually, yes! Not tonight." Harry rolled his eyes as someone knocked firmly at the door. "Come in." he said. The door opened and a tall, clever-looking boy appeared in the doorway. "Nicky!" he greeted. "Join us!"

"Father was wandering where the two of you were" Nick sneered. "He's getting a bit cranky, right now. I reckon we should all go downstairs to the party before he starts arguing with Grandfather again."

Elizabeth widened her grin as she approached the second of her three children.

"You reckon well, dear. Your father shouldn't be left alone with mine for more then five minutes." She agreed placing her arm around Nick's. "What about your sister? Where's Christine?"

"Oh, she's outside in the garden. She's probably just playing with her friends. Either way, Chrissie's fine; it's Grandfather you should worry about. I think he already had a bit more of Scotch than he ought to." Nick tried not to laugh at the memory of his grandfather losing his wig for the third time that night.

"Good old Grandfather! Always ready to light up the party!" mocked Harry with and evil grin as he and his brother started roaring with laughter.

"Don't talk about your Grandfather like that, Harry!" reprehended Elizabeth, holding back a smirk and getting out of the room. "Let's just go downstairs before your Father starts fuming!"

"Yes!" Harry concurred while closing the door behind him. "And before Grandfather blacks out into the lake."

"Harry!"

Author: thanks for the reviews! so...should I continue?...


	5. Like Chalk and Cheese

"Verona?" Harry called. "Father wants us downstairs. "Are you ready?"

The door creaked open and Verona walked out of the dressing room. She was wearing a bright pink dress and her dark hair tied in a perfect bun on the top of her head.

Indeed, she was beautiful, Harry thought. Her blue eyes fixed his and she sighed.

"Don't you know it's rrude to 'asten a Lady?" she disapproved. "Forr God's zake, Harrrry, iv you vant to be a trrrue gentleman you should begin by changing zese kind ov attitudes…It'z zo degrrrading!..."

Verona walked passed him. Harry couldn't help but rolling his eyes before sensing the sweet scent of her perfume floating behind her.

"If only you were a mute…" Harry said to himself.

"Excuse me?" she asked, turning to him.

"Er…I said…How you like my suit?" he jolted quickly, forcing a smile.

Verona wrinkled her nose in an evaluation process. She looked up and down Harry's outfit and shrugged.

"It vill 'ave to do, I guess." She said arrogantly. "Now, veren't you ze one in a hurrrry? Let's go, zen!"

Her high-pitched voice echoed in the empty corridor.

'What did I get myself into?' Harry thought as he sighed and started descending the stairs with Verona clenching his arm stubbornly.

* * *

"Ye're gettin' us all killed, Jack Sparrow!"

"Stop worryin', Anamaria…" advised Tamora calmly as she tried to see beyond the foliage that embraced the tall iron fence surrounding the Governor's property where the crew lingered.

"Don' ya see, Miss Rackham?" Anamaria exasperated. "We're all gonna be slaughtered because of tha'……man!"

"Stop naggin' woman!" shouted Jack while he observed the crowd in the garden starting to turn their attention to some occurrence inside the building. "I already told ya: I know what I'm doin'!"

"Suuure you do!" Tamora uttered. Jack cast her a nasty look. "What?" she said with a mischievous innocence.

"Anyway, men…we're here, aren't we? Why not go in and just…revisit old friends?" the captain proposed with what everybody considered to be an evil grin.

"Friends! Right! Ye won't be callin' them friends once they chop off yer pretty head! Or worse! ALL our pretty heads!" Anamaria persevered.

"Okay!" Jack let out with an angry sigh and turned abruptly to her. "You listen, and you listen good! I haven' eaten in three days! No food, hardly anything to drink and no human heat whatsoever! Just us, the water and the seagulls who are, in general, extremely annoyin' and even a bit vicious when it comes to sharin' rations! So quit the pesky speech and let me 'ave a bit more in life than a nasty and, if I may add, painful sunburn!" he despaired.

"And be sent to Davey Jones Locker AGAIN? Sure! What are we waitin' fo'?" continued Anamaria.

"Yeah! What are we waitin' fo', captain?" repeated Tamora, her eyes fixed in the huge palace closed behind the heavy iron bars. She felt a hand landing on her shoulder.

"An opportunity, dear toddler." Jack's voice muttered. "And we might be gettin' lucky as I'm seein' one goin' that way."

The crew struggled to spot whichever opportunity Jack was referring to and, once they succeeded, they, all, felt a rush pumping inside their veins, making them restless.

With an amazing diligence, everybody stationed outside the house moved to its inner part. Through the huge glass windows, thanks to the intense, blinding lights coming from the great hall, a gargantuan staircase adorned with what looked like expensive golden snakes of ribbon could be seen, standing out due its enormity.

Suddenly, the music coming from the Governor's party grew louder as the buzz from the crowd seized and two figures started to descend the staircase: one of them, Tamora examined, wore an intense pink-coloured dress that contrasted with her black hair; while the other, the figure of a young man, was dressed in a dark suit which matched his ebony locks.

"I'll be damned…" Jack muttered, frowning. Tamora looked at him, intrigued.

"What?"

"Strong inheritance…" he responded vaguely. "He looks just like 'im…"

"Who?" the girl insisted. "Who looks like whom?" but an answer never came as Jack quickly looked at the gates and whispered "Follow my lead!" before setting off catlike towards the gateway.

When all of the seven members of Captain Sparrow's crew stood behind a beautiful stagecoach, concealed from the guards at the gates of the manor, Jack spoke: "Here's what we're goin' to do…"


End file.
